Songs of Sherlock
by TheMindPalace
Summary: When Sherlock brings his old piano keyboard back from a visit to Holmes Manor he surprises John with the fact that not only can Sherlock play piano and violin-he can sing too. (John/Sherlock established relationship)
1. The Scientist

Songs of Sherlock

Prompt: Sherlock brings back his old piano keyboard from a visit to Mummy Holmes, and surprises John with the fact that not only can he play piano and violin-he can sing too. (John/Sherlock established relationship)

Sherlock grunted as he finally succeeded in manoeuvring his old instrument up the stairs to 221b. He placed it down on the living room table, and leaned back against the wall to catch his breath, glaring at the offending instrument. He had stayed at the Holmes Manor for a week, and his mother had insisted that he bring it back home with him to learn to play again. Sherlock had, of course, mastered both the violin and piano, but still- he preferred his violin. It sounded so much nicer. He groaned as he noticed his name in the side of the keyboard In his childish print. Glancing at his watch, he determined that it would be at least an hour before John returned from work. He pouted briefly, beginning to feel the slight touch of boredom already.

Well...if he must keep the infernal thing here, then it wouldn't hurt to just, brush up on his piano skills. To prove that he could still do it if nothing else.

Sighing in defeat, he sat down on the couch and started to play a few simple warm-up pieces, before deciding to challenge himself and learn a new song. Of course, it probably wouldn't be much of a challenge for him, but at least it would occupy him while John was still at work. He grabbed his laptop, and went to google some song options, before deciding on "The Scientist" by Coldplay. The title had appealed to him more so than the others, so why not? He opened a browser to listen to the words, which helped him with the flow of how he should play a song. Hm. His initial thought was that the song reminded him of himself and John strangely enough, and with that in mind, he strengthened his resolve to learn it.

He kept the notes on screen, and began to practice.

It took him only four tries before he had it memorized, and on the fifth try, he could play it flawlessly. He rolled his eyes. He knew it wouldn't be a challenge. He continued to play it anyway, simply because he liked the song-a fact that annoyed him deeply. Why get attached to songs? He sighed again. Oh well. At least he chose a song that reminded him of John. He started to play again, and without realizing it, started to softly sing the words. He had always been good at singing, as it was a musical skill, but usually preferred just playing an instrument by itself. Although now that he thought about it, he supposed that singing sounded better with a piano than his violin. He decided to play it a few times to ensure that he knew it, and so he continued to play, memorizing the words more each time.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• ••••••••••••••••

John happily finished work, grabbed a cab, and began his short journey home, grinning all the while. The driver probably thought he was crazy, what with the look on his face, but oh well. It was the day Sherlock returned, and if John was right, than he should be waiting at home right now.

When he arrived at Baker Street, he threw the right amount of bills at the cabbie, and eagerly opened the door, prepared to make his way upstairs. Once inside, he paused, confused. He was used to hearing music from Sherlock when he arrived however, definitely not the piano. He listened again. Yes, it was definitely coming from 221b. He made his way upstairs, and opened the living room door silently, a little stunned at what he saw there.

Sherlock was sitting with his back to John, apparently engrossed in a small keyboard he was playing. When John squinted he could see the words, "_Sherlock Holmes" _in a child's handwriting. Joh smiled. It was adorable. So it was an old instrument then. After a minute, John realized why Sherlock hadn't noticed him yet, and he felt a start as he heard that Sherlock was singing too. And he sounded beautiful, John thought. John had always loved the sound of pianos, and hearing Sherlock play...it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. Deciding against interrupting him, John leaned against the door, and listened to Sherlock begin the song over.

_Come up to meet you_

_Tell you I'm sorry_

_You don't know how lovely you are_

_I had to find you_

_Tell you I need you,_

_Tell you I set you apart_

_Tell me your secrets_

_And ask me your questions_

_Oh and I rush to the start_

_Running in circles,_

_Chasing tails_

_Heads on a science apart_

John smiled, a little sadly, as he heard the words to the song. As far as he could tell, it was a perfect song for him and the detective.

_Nobody said it was easy_

_Oh, it's such a shame for us to part_

_Nobody said it was easy,_

_No one ever said it would be this hard_

_ Oh take me back to the start_

Sherlock, still engrossed in his piano, didn't notice John had arrived home, and was still playing absent-mindledly. He had of course, realized at some point that he was singing the words softly, but decided that he didn't care. At least he was good at it.

_I was just guessing_

_At numbers and figures_

_Pulling the puzzles apart_

_Questions of science,_

_Science and progress_

_Could not speak as loud as my_ _heart_

_Oh, tell me you love me,_

_Come back and haunt me,_

_Oh and I rush to the start_

_Nobody said it was easy_

_Oh, it's such a shame for us to part_

_Nobody said it was easy_

_No one ever said it would be this hard_

_I'm going back to the start_

Sherlock finished beautifully, and sat quietly after, taking a break.

"Beautiful."

He stiffened for a moment as he heard John's voice from behind him. Apparently he was so focused on playing that he hadn't noticed John arrive home. He was still for anther second before running up to him, and pulling him into a long kiss.

"I missed you." Sherlock said when they finally broke apart. He was bit breathless, but grinning at the fact that John was home again.

"I missed you too." John smiled. "And I didn't know you could play piano."

Sherlock blushed. He hadn't meant for anyone to hear him.

"I prefer violin." He muttered.

"I thought you sounded beautiful. And not only your playing. I didn't know you could sing either."

Sherlock shrugged. "Yes well, mother always encouraged me, so I suppose I'm okay at it. And I had wanted to learn a new song, and this one seemed rather appropriate for you and I." At this he smiled at John, and then sat down on the couch, pulling John down into his lap.

John laughed, and rested his head on Sherlock's chest, and wrapping his arms around him. "Yes I noticed that too." He paused "Maybe it can be our song."

"I'd like that." He heard Sherlock murmur from where his face was buried in John's hair.

"I've always loved piano." John said after a few moments of comfortable silence. Sherlock widened his eyes. Well then. Maybe he could learn to like the piano more after all.

"I could play for you sometime." Sherlock offered. "I rather enjoy learning new songs." Well, he did now anyways.

"I'd like that." He heard John say, as he snuggled further into Sherlock's chest. Sherlock smiled fondly, and wrapped his arm around John's waist, glad to be back at home with his army doctor at last.


	2. I Won't Give Up On Us

John woke up, and saw Sherlock sleeping quietly, his arms around John's waist. John smiled as he remembered the events of the previous night. He hoped that Sherlock really would play for him sometime. He would like that. He stroked Sherlock's hair as he lay with him, not wanting to get up. It was Saturday, so John had the day off. They didn't have a case yet, as Sherlock had just returned, and Lestrade was on holiday somewhere, so John planned on spending the whole weekend with Sherlock being lazy.

After about ten more minutes, Sherlock slowly started to wake up too. He opened his eyes, and saw John already awake, and stroking his hand through Sherlock's hair.

"Morning love." John murmured to him .

"Good morning." Sherlock yawned, and stretched his face up to John's kissing him good morning, then leaning back to study John's face. "You've only been up for ten minutes then. Are you supposed to be at the clinic this weekend?"

"Nope," John said happily. "Just me and you."

Sherlock smiled. Perfect. These were his favourite kind of days, just him and John, spending the whole day in each others company. "Do you want some breakfast?"

Contrary to popular belief, Sherlock was good at cooking, because it, as he put it,

"Simply chemistry John." So John nodded, and they made their way downstairs into the kitchen, and Sherlock started to make some eggs.

"Sherlock?"

"Mm?"

"Will you play me a song today?"

Sherlock laughed. "Absolutely. Found a new interest?" John grinned.

"Well I've decided I love hearing you play."

Sherlock smiled dopily, and then abandoned the eggs to go over to John and straddle his thighs. John placed his hands in Sherlock's hips, and leaned in to kiss him.

"I love you." Sherlock murmured against John's lips.

"I love you too." John answered, breaking away. "Now you may want to check on those eggs before you distract me and we end up burning down the flat."

"Mrs. Hudson wouldn't mind. She loves me." Sherlock answered, getting off John's lap, and going to put the eggs on a plate for John. John rolled his eyes. It's true, Mrs. Hudson would probably still love Sherlock if he burned the flat to the ground.

"So, any special requests?" Sherlock inquired as he sat down across from John, waiting for him to finish eating.

"Hmm. Play another song about us." John grinned. "I think those will be my favourite." Sherlock laughed, taking John's plate to dump in the sink.

"Very well. Give me a couple minutes to think of one." He said, walking into the living room. John nodded. "I'll start washing the dishes then." He called to the living room.

He heard Sherlock play a few ideas before he was done the dishes, and by the time he came into the living room, Sherlock was ready. He pulled John on to his lap, and gave him a kiss on the neck before beginning to play.

_When I look into your eyes_

_It's like watching the night sky_

_Or a beautiful sunrise_

_Well, there's so much they hold_

_ And just like them old stars_

_I see that you've come so far_

_To be right where you are_

_How old is your soul?_

John smiled, surprised. He actually recognized the song. During the time he had thought Sherlock dead, he thought of him whenever he heard it. He looked at Sherlock, and felt his insides warm at what he saw. Apparently Sherlock enjoyed the piano more than he let on. The detective's body was relaxed and he was utterly focused on the song.

_Well, I won't give up on us_

_Even if the skies get rough_

_I'm giving you all my love_

_I'm still looking up_

_ And when you're needing your space_

_To do some navigating_

_I'll be here patiently waiting_

_To see what you find_

John grinned. He'd have to remember to hold him to that.

'_Cause even the stars they burn_

_Some even fall to the earth_

_We've got a lot to learn_

_God knows we're worth it_

_No, I won't give up_

_ I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily_

_I'm here to stay and make the difference_ _that I can make_

_Our differences they do a lot to _

_teach us how to use_

_The tools and gifts we got, yeah, we got a lot at stake_

_And in the end, you're still my friend at least we did intend_

_For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn_

_ We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in_

_I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not, and who I am_

_No, I won't give up on us_

_Even if the skies get rough_

_I'm giving you all my love_

_I'm still looking up, still looking up._

_Well, I won't give up _

_God knows I'm tough enough _

_We've got a lot to learn_

_God knows we're worth it _

_ I won't give up on us_

_Even if the skies get rough_

_I'm giving you all my love_

_I'm still looking up_

Sherlock finished the song, and turned to John expectantly. "Well? Did you like it?"

John grinned and gave him a kiss. "It was amazing Sherlock. Out of curiosity, how did you choose the song?"

Sherlock grinned. "Actually, remember last week when you dragged me to Tesco with you?" Sherlock grimaced as if in pain, and John rolled his eyes.

"Fondly." He answered.

"Well, the song was playing, and you were humming the words. You probably didn't even know you were doing it. Is it a song you like?"

John nodded. "It was a song I listened to a lot when I thought you were dead." Sherlock tensed, and John felt the arms around his waist tighten.

"Was it- a bit... Was it not good then?" Sherlock asked hesitantly.

"No, no," John assured him "it was perfect. It has good memories now that you're really mine." He rested his head on Sherlock's neck.

Sherlock hummed in contentment, and John felt his arms relax. After a few moments, he asked "So you really like the piano, don't you?"

John nodded. "I don't know why, I just always have. I like it even more when you're playing it actually." Sherlock beamed.

"I'll play for you anytime you want." He promised.


	3. You Make Me Smile

A week later, John was watching Sherlock fondly from his place against the wall. This was one of John's favourite times to see the genius-running around, eager in his deductions. Sherlock was so passionate about his job, and John was honoured that he was able to witness that. He had already given Sherlock his opinion about how their victim had died, and at this point, was just waiting for him to wrap up so that they could go home.

"Don't you ever get tired of just waiting around for him?" John heard the familiar voice of Sally Donovan in his ear. "I mean, all you do is stand around and hold his coat."

John's posture was immediately stiff as he heard the unfortunately familiar voice. "I never get tired of waiting for him." John answered, glaring at her. "I'd wait forever."

"You must be mad. I'll never understand what the hell you see in him." Donovan sneered.

"Well then you're missing out." John spat out at her. Sally walked away muttering about him being the detective's keeper. John felt his insides boil. He did help at least a bit, didn't he? He patched Sherlock up when he was broken, he offered an outside opinion to the cases. I mean, he knew that he, or anyone else, would never be as brilliant as his partner, but...still. He helped.

But the more he replayed Donavan's words, the more he saw the undeniable truth in them, and subsequently, the more inferior he felt. If he wasn't helpful, why bother coming? Sherlock could just as well solve the case without him there.

John was so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Sherlock finish up, and make his way over to John.

"Ready to go?" Sherlock asked.

"Yep. Lets get a cab." John answered quietly, keeping his head down. It would only upset Sherlock to know what Donovan said, and anyways, John didn't want Sherlock to hear the truth in them.

But Sherlock (predictably) noticed his tone of voice, and ignoring the members of the yard all around them, curled his hands around John's face, stroking his cheek. "John? What's wrong?" He inquired, concerned.

"Nothing, I'm fine." He answered, not meeting Sherlock's eyes. "Let's just go home." He walked towards the road, and hailed a cab.

The ride home was quiet, with John deep in thought, and Sherlock trying to figure out what had happened. He hadn't a clue what could have made John so upset. When they got him, John went upstairs immediately, and Sherlock paid the cabbie, before hurrying to catch up.

"Tea?" John asked, walking into the kitchen when Sherlock got upstairs. Sherlock shook his head, and reached out to grab John's arm.

"John. Tell me what's wrong. I know something is, and don't try to tell me that you're fine. You're the man I love more than anyone or anything, ad I spend the vast majority of my time looking at you. That is not your i'm-okay face." Sherlock said firmly, not letting John go.

"It was nothing, it's just something Donovan said got stuck in my head. But it's- it's not important. Don't worry." John answered, looking down so as to not meet Sherlock's eyes.

"Tell me." Sherlock said softly. "Please. If it hurts you, it matters to me."

John sighed and repeated what Donavan had said.

"I mean...I know I'm not as brilliant as you. But I thought I helped at least a little." John said in a small voice.

Sherlock on the other hand, stared at his lover in utter disbelief. "John Watson. That is complete and utter bullshit. Don't you dare think that you are anything less than perfect to me. I couldn't do half of what I do if you weren't there. You're - you, I..." Sherlock was seething as he trailed off, frustrated that he couldn't put into words the worth that John had to him. But then he thought of something, and his eyes lit up. He dragged John into the living room, and declared:

"If you can't believe me, I'll just have to play it for you." John smiled slightly at the idea of Sherlock playing for him again, then allowed Sherlock to tug John into the regular spot for when Sherlock played for him- on the detective's lap. Sherlock started to play, and soon added the words for John.

_You're better than the best_

_I'm lucky just to linger in your light_

_Cooler then the flip side of my pillow-that's right_

_Completely unaware_

_Nothing can compare to where you send me,_

_You let me know that it's ok_

_In the moments where my good times start to fade_

_You make me smile like the sun_

_Fall out bed, sing like a bird, _

_Dizzy in my head,spin like a record. _

_ Crazy on a Sunday night_

_You make me dance like a fool_

_Forget how to breathe_

_Shine like gold, buzz like a bee_

_Just the thought of you can drive me wild_

_Oh, you make me smile_

_Even when you're gone_

_Somehow you come along_

_Just like a flower poking through sidewalk crack _

_and just like that_

_You steal away the rain _

_and just like that_

_You make me smile like the sun_

_ Fall out of bed, sing like a bird _

_Dizzy in my head, spin like a record _

_Crazy on a Sunday night_

_You make me dance like a fool_

_Forget how to breathe_

_Shine like gold, buzz like a bee_

_Just the thought of you can drive me wild_

_Oh, you make me smile_

_Don't know how I lived without you_

_Cause everytime that I get around you_

_I see the best of me inside your eyes_

_You make me smile_

_You make me dance like a fool_

_Forget how to breathe_

_Shine like gold, buzz like a bee_

_Just the thought of you can drive me wild_

_You make me smile like the sun_

_Fall out of bed, sing like a bird_

_Dizzy in my head, spin like a record_

_Crazy on a Sunday night_

_You make me dance like a fool_

_Forget how to breathe_

_Shine like gold, buzz like a bee_

_Just the thought of you can drive me wild_

_Oh, you make me smile_

_"_Can't you see John?_ You_ are so important to me. I love you- more than anything and- and most of all. You mean so much to me, more than the work even. Sally Donavan has nothing of worth to possibly say to you."

John stared in wonder at Sherlock, then reached up to kiss him. When they broke away, John murmured,

"I love you too."

"Good." Sherlock smiled. "Now, I don't want to hear you thinking anything so ridiculous about yourself again." And with that, he took John into his arms, and brought him upstairs to the bedroom, ready to show John just how much he meant to him.


	4. Night Terror

_Nobody could be that clever."_

_"You could."_

_"Goodbye John."_

_"SHERLOCK!"_

_And the angel was falling, falling, his wings broken and bloody, and John screamed and screamed for his love to come back but death had other plans. _

_"Sherlock...Sher...sh'lock..."_

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Wake up John!" Sherlock shook John's shoulders gently. "John, love, it's just a dream, it's only a dream."

John awoke with a gasp and a heart-wrenching cry of "Sherlock!" His eyes were wild for a moment, and he still seemed half-asleep, murmuring "Sh'lock...don't leave me..."

Sherlock cupped John's face and finally John focused enough to realize Sherlock was in fact, right in front of him and stroking his face softly. He grabbed Sherlock's waist and buried his face in his neck.

"Shh John, I'm here, I'm not leaving you." Sherlock said soothingly, rubbing John's back. John buried his face further in Sherlock's neck in response.

"What did you dream about love?" Sherlock murmured to the shaking man in his arms.

"You, jumping... and...and..." John trailed off, and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He clutched the detective even tighter.

Sherlock nodded in understanding."Well, luckily we have just the cure for that now, don't we? Lets go downstairs and I'll play you something." John hesitated a moment, unwilling to release Sherlock, before taking his hand so he could be led downstairs. Sherlock pulled John onto the piano bench, but lay him so that his head was in the detective's lap.

"Try to sleep, I can carry you upstairs after." Sherlock promised, smoothing John's hair. John nodded his assent, and Sherlock began to play. He let the music wash over him, calming him down effectively, before he heard his favourite part-Sherlock singing.

_I woke up and he was screaming_

_I'd left him dreaming_

_I roll over and shake him tightly _

_And whisper-_

_ "If they want you, oh they're gonna have to fight me."_

_Oh fight me_

_I woke up on a bench _

_on Shepherds bush green_

_Oh, a candle at my chest_

_And a head on his knee_

_I roll over and hold him tightly _

_And scream,_

_ "If they want him, oh they're gonna have to fight me"_

_Fight me_

_But if I wake up on a bench on _

_Shepherds Bush green_

_Oh a candle at my chest_

_And a head on his knee_

_I got up, it was dark_

_There's no one in the park at this hour_

_How do I keep finding myself here?_

_Oh fight me_

_If I look back and he is screaming_

_I'd left him dreaming_

_I roll over and shake him tightly_

_And whisper:_

_ "If they want you, they're gonna have to fight me."_

_ Oh fight me_

"I like th'song. Thanks." John murmured from Sherlock's lap.

"I'm glad." Sherlock said, pulling John up, and tugging him into an embrace. "Now, lets go to bed." John shook his head.

"M'tired, lets stay here to sleep." He said, leaning into Sherlock.

"What, all night?" Sherlock said smiling in amusement. John nodded his head.

"Mhm."

They sat in silence for a few more moments, with the detective tracing nonsensical shapes on the doctor's back, before Sherlock said:

"John? Are you actually planning on coming out of there anytime soon?"

John shook his head and said something that was muffled by Sherlock's chest.

"Sorry love, what was that?"

"Said m'never coming out. Never again ever."

Sherlock smiled in amusement again, and shook his head. John was unbelievably cute. "Though I'm tempted to let you, I believe Sarah and Lestrade would both frown upon that."

"Don't care," John said "m' staying here forever. It's my favourite place." Sherlock laughed, and pulled John to the sofa, resigning to the fact that they weren't going to make it upstairs.

"Anything for you John."


	5. If I had a Million Dollars

John climbed the stairs of 221b slowly. His day had been disastrous. He had been late for work, because Harry called, drunk and ranting, (at 7 in the morning!), he had received news that a close friend had been shot and killed in Afghanistan yesterday, and today he had lost a patient on his watch. He just wanted to get home and have Sherlock hold him.

When he got inside, he hung up his jacket, and untied his boots, kicking then off half-heartedly. He then took a deep breath, and closed his eyes, willing himself to keep it together. He could hear Sherlock in the kitchen, probably working on an experiment. He kept his eyes shut, clenching his hands.

"John? Is that you? I thought I heard-"

Sherlock's voice stopped abruptly. He had just walked into the front hall, and saw John, immediately starting to deduce what had happened.

"Oh John." He whispered before running forwards, and enveloping John in his arms.

The contact broke John's concentration, and he began to sob in the detective's arms. He felt the ground beneath him disappear as Sherlock picked him up, and start to make his way up the stairs to their room.

When they got there, he climbed under the covers with John, holding him tight.

"What can I do John? What would help?"

He heard Sherlock's pleading voice, and took a second to calm himself before deciding.

"Sing to me. But- don't leave me please. Just sing without the piano tonight. Please."

Sherlock smiled softly, and nodded to John. This was something he could do.

"Something happy to take your mind off everything, hmm?" John nodded, and Sherlock took a breath before starting.

If _I had a million dollars,_

_If I had a million dollars  
Well, I'd buy you a house_

If I had a million dollars,  
If I had a million dollars  
I'd buy you furniture _for your house  
Maybe a nice chesterfield or an ottoman_

_And if I had a million dollars,  
If I had a million dollars  
Well, I'd buy you a K-Car  
A nice reliable automobile_

_And_ _if I had a million dollars I'd buy your love_

If I had a million dollars  
I'd build a tree fort in our yard  
If I had million dollars  
You could help, it wouldn't be that hard

_If_ _I had million dollars  
Maybe we could put like a little tiny fridge in there somewhere_

_"_You know, we could just go up there and hang out." Sherlock said.

"Like open the fridge and stuff. There would already be laid out foods for us. Like little pre-wrapped sausages and things." John answered laughing.

"They have pre-wrapped sausages, but they don't have pre-wrapped bacon."

"Well, can you blame them?"

"Uh, yeah."

_If_ _I had a million dollars,  
If I had a million dollars  
Well, I'd buy you a fur coat-  
But not a real fur coat that's cruel_

_And if I had a million dollars,  
If I had a million dollars  
Well, I'd buy you an exotic pet-  
Yep, like a llama or an emu_

_And_ _if I had a million dollars,  
If I had a a million dollars  
Well, I'd buy you John Merrick's remains  
Ooh, all them crazy elephant bones_

_And If I had a million dollars I'd buy your love_

If I had a million dollars  
We wouldn't have to walk to the store  
If I had a million dollars  
No, we'd take a limousine 'cause it _costs more_

_If I had a million dollars_  
_We wouldn't have to eat Kraft Dinner_

"But we would eat Kraft Dinner."

"Of course we would, we'd just eat more."

"And buy really expensive ketchups with it."

"That's right, all the fanciest ketchups... dijon ketchups!"

_If I had a million dollars,  
If I had a million dollars  
Well, I'd buy you a green shirt  
But not a real green shirt, that's cruel_

_And if I had a million dollars,  
If I had a million dollars  
Well, I'd buy you some art  
A Picasso or a Garfunkel!_

_If I had a million dollars,  
If I had a million dollars  
Well, I'd buy you a monkey_

"I bet you've always wanted a monkey."

_If I had a million dollars  
I'd buy your love_

If I had a million dollars, If I had a million dollars  
If I had a million dollars, If I had a million dollars  
If I had a million dollars

_We'd be rich_

_"_You know, if I had a million dollars, I'd do that all for you too."

"I know you would love." Sherlock kissed John's forehead. "Now sleep."


	6. I'll Follow You into the Dark

Sherlock and John stood in their front hall panting heavily. That case had been almost more trouble than it was worth, even to Sherlock. John had only narrowly escaped death by getting shot in the head, and in the face of such a devastating prospect, Sherlock froze. The only thing he could think was Notjohnnotjohnnotjohn. Only seconds away from the trigger being pulled, Sherlock acted. The had both escaped with barely a scratch, but Sherlock couldn't shake off a feeling of overwhelming guilt.

It was written all over the detective's face too. When John looked over at him, finally having caught his breath, he found Sherlock frozen with a look of horror on his face. The genius looked over at him, and his mouth was moving, but no words came out.

"Sherlock?" John said hesitantly. "Sherlock, what is it?"

"I- you..." Sherlock was obviously still having trouble voicing his distress. "I..."

"Okay." John soothed. "Okay, let's go to the living room, and just relax, okay? Then you can tell me what's wrong." Sherlock nodded, and followed John through the flat. When they made it to the couch, John pulled Sherlock into his arms, and just let him sit for a moment.

Sherlock inhaled deeply. He felt secure in his lover's arms. Johns embrace was strong, and he smelled a perfect blend of tea, gunpowder, and London, with a scent that was just pure John.

"Okay Sherlock, can you tell me now?" John asked. "I want to help, but I need to know what's wrong."

Sherlock took a deep shuddering breath before beginning. "You could have died tonight John. You could have died, and it would have been my fault. John, I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you, and I was the cause of it. If I had to live without you again, I don't know what I'd do. I would want to take my life for real this time."

John nodded calmly. It was a sudden confession, but he found he felt the same way. "Love, I know how you feel. I would do the same if our situations were reversed, but tonight was not your fault. You need to focus on right now. Right now, you can feel my heart beating." He took Sherlock's hand, and placed it over his heart. "If ever that stops beating, it would never be your fault. Never."

Sherlock's breathing was getting back to normal, and there was only one more thing he needed to express.

"John, promise me that if something happens to either one of us, we go together. Same minute, same second, so we never live without the other. I don't care if that's selfish. I'm selfish. Promise."

John nodded. "Together, or not at all." Sherlock smiled, content, and sat in the silence with John, both just listening to the other breathe, before John spoke.

"I think you need to get this out. I suggest the piano, because even if you can't see it, I can tell it calms you down."

"Yes." Sherlock agreed. "You're right." He made his way to the piano and John followed him.

Sherlock's fingers immediately danced over the keys, and the song came flowing from him, and John closed his eyes, the better to just hear his lover's voice.

_Love of mine, someday you will die But I'll be close behind I'll follow you into the dark_

_No blinding light, or tunnels to gates of white Just our hands clasped so tight Waiting for the hint of a spark_

_If Heaven and Hell decide _

_that they both are satisfied_

_Illuminate the 'No's' on their vacancy signs_

_If there's no one beside you _

_When your soul embarks_

_Then I'll follow you into the dark_

_ In Catholic School, as vicious as Roman rule I got my knuckles bruised By a lady in black_

_ I held my tongue, as she told me son: Fear is the heart of love'. So I never went back_

_ If Heaven and Hell decide_

_that they both are satisfied _

_Illuminate the 'No's' on their vacancy signs_

_ If there's no one beside you _

_When your soul embarks_

_Then I'll follow you into the dark_

_ You and me, have seen everything to see From Bangkok to Calgary and the souls of your shoes-_

_ are all worn down, The time for sleep is now But it's nothing to cry about_

_Cause we'll hold each other soon In the blackest of rooms_

_If Heaven and Hell decide That they both are satisfied Illuminate the 'No's' on their vacancy signs_

_If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks Then I'll follow you into the dark_

The last line was sung with a caress to John's face, and that's how they fell asleep, pressed together, secure in the fact that they'd never be alone again.


	7. The Beacon

John yawned as he tried to figure out what had woken him. He stretched out his arm to the place where Sherlock slept, but found only an empty spot. Oh, thats why he was up. John frowned and glanced over at the alarm clock on their bedside table. It said 2:06 am. That was weird. Sherlock was only up at this time if he had a n-

Oh. John shook his head, and let out an exasperated sigh. His ridiculous boyfriend. No matter how many times John told him it was stupid, Sherlock always said he didn't want to bother John with his bad dreams. John quietly left the bed, and made his way downstairs to find Sherlock. Halfway down the stairs, he heard the piano. John smiled, and went down the rest of the stairs. He tiptoed to the living room door, leaning against it. He wouldn't take Sherlock back upstairs until he was finished. It was partly because he was glad that Sherlock found something to calm him down, and partly because he loved hearing him play.

For now, Sherlock was just playing a soft tune, so John tried to figure out what had upset him. He looked around absent-mindedly, until his gaze landed on the calendar. It was November 22nd, which John knew was the day Sherlock's father had died. Sherlock never said much about it, and John had sometimes wondered what was the cause of his death, but never asked. The math said that Sherlock would have been 11 at the time. He was startled out of his thoughts as The genius began to sing-

_You say your time had come,_

_You're tired of waking up_

_Don't be obscene, I can't conceive _

_of living without you_

_You say you drag us down,_

_no one should want you now_

_When I start to cry, you kiss my eyes _

_and say I'm not allowed to_

_Burning beacon in the night,_

_can't feel it's heat or see it's light,_

_That single solitary guide-_

_It must get lonely there sometimes_

_I was a child forgot,_

_lessons of love untaught_

_Now no embrace can quite replace _

_the one that never found you_

_He was raised tenderly, _

_and all that was taught to him_

_He will apply, my parents tried_

_But they didn't know how to_

_Burning beacon in the night,_

_Can't feel it's heat or see it's light,_

_That single solitary guide-_

_It must get lonely there sometimes_

_Let me stand by you_

_Honour is mine_

_Let me stand by you_

_Loneliest light_

_Burning beacon in the night,_

_Can't feel it's heat or see it's light,_

_That single solitary guide-_

_It must get lonely there sometimes_

John walked over to the piano bench, and silently put his arms around Sherlock. He didn't need to ask about his father anymore, because the song told him all he needed to know. Sherlock didn't ask what John was doing up, or why he was holding him, because John knew he probably had deduced it already. Sherlock sighed, and put his head on John's shoulder. The doctor held him tighter, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Nothing needed to be said. Sherlock needed John to be here for him, and so here he was.


	8. Lucky I'm in Love With My Best Friend

Sherlock lay in his side watching his boyfriend sleep, one hand stroking his chest, the other hand playing with John's hair. He loved this-watching John looking so peaceful, with no worries. He had woken up a while ago, and as he wasn't going to go back to sleep, this was the best use of his time that he could think of. He smiled as he saw John smile in his sleep, subconsciously reacting to Sherlock's feather-light touches. He leaned over, and kissed his lover's forehead, waiting for John to awake.

"Mmm." He heard John sigh. "What time s'it?" Sherlock laughed at his sleepy state.

"3:30am." Sherlock replied cheerfully. "Actually, it's about...3:37am, if you want a very specific answer." Sherlock then admitted guiltily. "I couldn't sleep." John rolled his eyes sleepily, but smiled.

"Okay then. Do you want to talk?" They did this sometimes, just talking about nothing important until they were too tired to make sense. Sometimes Sherlock felt incredibly lucky that he was with his boyfriend who was also his best friend. He felt like he was winning, even if he didn't know what the prize was.

"Sure." The genius agreed. "What's your favourite animal?"

"A hedgehog." John answered after a moments thought. Sherlock nodded contemplatively.

"I can see it. You kind of remind me of a hedgehog, because your tough and brave while still being adorable." He reasoned.

John rolled his eyes.

"Is that sentiment I hear?" He teased the detective.

"Only for you." Sherlock answered unashamedly, leaning down to kiss the doctor's lips. John felt his heart melt at the geniuses words.

"What's your favourite weather?" John asked. Their questions were often random, but they never cared.

"Rain." Sherlock answered. "Even if we're chasing a criminal in it, it feels peaceful. Not peaceful that makes me want to scream, peaceful like you are to me."

Their questions went back an forth for a while, before dissolving into conversation as per usual.

"Favourite place?"

"Wherever you are. Well, and the morgue."

"Favourite food?"

"Jam. Come on, like you even had to ask."

"Favourite word?"

"John" *wink*

"You're charming, really."

"I know."

"Sarcasm darling."

"But I am charming."

"Well I never noticed. Maybe it's a figment of your imagination?

"Hey!"

"Well it's true."

"No it's not."

"*cough* Delusions of grandeur."

"We need someone to settle this. Lets call Lestrade."

"He has a name Sherlock. Greg, remember?"

"Are you sure? I'm not convinced."

"Jesus. Your unbelievable."

"Thanks."

"Not a compliment, but you're welcome anyway. Okay, ring him now. Put it on speaker."

*ring ring* '_Ohh...Mycroooft'_

*SLAM*

"He's busy. Definitely busy. We're never calling him again. Ever. That was the _worst_ idea."

"I'm sure that's how Lestrade felt when he walked in on us in his office."

"That's different John."

"How?"

"You're hot. Mycroft is...Mycroft."

"Either way, I will never unhear that. My ears are bleeding."

"Well it was your idea John."

"New rule: we never listen to my ideas again."

"Okay, I'm completely in favour."

"Dick."

"Well you would know about me and dicks, wouldn't you?"

"Again. Unbelievable."

*wink*

"John?"

"Yeah love?"

"M'tired."

"Oh, now he's tired."

"JOHN!"

"Fine, fine. How 'bout you sing to me, and see if it puts us both to sleep?" He suggested. Sherlock laughed.

"Entirely just want me to sing to you." Sherlock accused him fondly. "But you're right, it's a good idea. What shall I sing?"

"Sing a new song. One you've never sang me before." John said with a yawn. "Other than our special songs, new ones are my favorite." Sherlock smiled fondly.

"I know, mine too. I like surprising you." He admitted. He thought for a minute before deciding. "Okay, lay down, I've picked one." Arranging both of them so that John's head was tucked under his chin, he began to sing.

Do you hear me? I'm talking to you

_Across the water across the deep blue ocean_

_Under the open sky, oh my, baby I'm trying_

_Boy, I hear you in my dreams_

_I feel your whisper across the sea_

_I keep you with me in my heart_

_You make it easier when life gets hard_

_Lucky I'm in love with my best friend_

_Lucky to have been where I have been_

_Lucky to be coming home again_

_They don't know how long it takes_

_Waiting for a love like this_

_Every time we say goodbye_

_I wish we had one more kiss_

_I'll wait for you, I promise you, I will_

_Lucky I'm in love with my best friend_

_Lucky to have been where I have_ been

_Lucky to be coming home again_

_Lucky we're in love in every way_

_Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed_

_Lucky to be coming home someday_

_And so I'm sailing through the sea_

_To an island where we'll meet_

_You'll hear the music fill the air_

_I'll put a flower in your hair_

_Though the breezes through the trees_

_Move so pretty you're all I see_

_As the world keeps spinning round_

_You hold me right here right now_

_Lucky I'm in love with my best friend_

_Lucky to have been where I have been_

_Lucky to be coming home again_

_I'm lucky we're in love in every way_

_Lucky to have stayed where we have stayed_

_Lucky to be coming home again_

When the last line of the song was finished, John was fast asleep on Sherlock's chest, with his detective following seconds after.


End file.
